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“I think I’ve broken both now,” she admitted. “I couldn’t keep his without breaking yours, or keep yours without breaking his. There are lucid moments, where I have my senses, or half of them… Where I can use logic, reasoning. I can even be clever. Grayson—”
“His name isn’t Grayson,” I growled.
“No. No, of course it’s not.” She hung her head. “He was never mine, was he? Only, I was so sure he was mine. Dad told me it was true. That you were going to hurt him. Hurt me and our son.” Tentatively, she glanced up at me. “Where is he now?”
“You left him in Texas.”
Her eyes widened. “Alone?”
“With a nanny.”
She nodded to herself, slowly at first, then a little quicker. “With Sarah. I…I remember that. I knew I had to come here, to Vegas. To Mama Striga, for Dad. I wanted Grayson to be safe while I was gone.” She glanced down at the doll, then turned her face away. “Is he safe now?”
“He is.” I didn’t bother correcting her on Rylan’s name. It was splitting hairs at that point. In the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered.
Melony Houghton had broken not one, but two blood oaths. She was suffering from two blood curses as a result—on top of whatever feral-inducing curse she’d inherited from her father.
No wonder she’d lost it.
Under the influences of three separate blood curses, anyone would.
“Melony.” I crouched down so I could talk to her at her level. I was still too disgusted to comfort her, but I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. If her lucidity was coming in and out, there was no telling how long it would last. I couldn’t risk spooking her. “Felicity and I had two sons.” I held up my fingers just in case there was any confusion about that. “Two. We found Rylan in Texas, where you left him. Now, I need to find Ryder. Where is he right now? Do you know?”
“Ryder?” Her brow knitted together. “I don’t know who Ryder is.”
“The other baby, Melony. That doll you’ve been carrying around”—I pointed to it—“its clothes have his scent. If he’s with your father, or if he’s hurt—”
She looked to the doll again. This time, her brow furrowed. “I would never hurt my baby. My Grayson—”
Her eyes went unfocused.
Shit.
So soon? I was losing her again already. And I’d been so sure that if I kept calm, that if I worked quickly, I’d have enough time, but now…
“Stay with me, Melony.” I took her face in my hands so she could see the desperation in my eyes. “Come on. Work with me here.”
But how could I convince her to do that when she barely knew what she was working toward? At this rate, she’d been more stable when she was flirting with me. When she believed that I loved her, wanted her, that I was her mate.
Fuck.
That was the answer, then.
“Think about your baby,” I encouraged her. “Our baby.” The lie felt less nauseating now that I realized how badly she needed it, just hold herself together. “Where did you leave him? Did someone take him from you?”
She panted, then closed her eyes. Twin tears rolled down her cheeks, one from each eye. They flowed down to her jaw, wetting my palms.
“The Du Pont pack. Dad—he took our baby. He gave me that… thing, so I wouldn’t miss him too much.” Her eyes darted to the doll, and I saw the hate in them. “He took our baby to your grandfather. He said… Dad said while I came here to Vegas for him, Grayson would be safer there.”
The Du Pont pack. Samuel’s mother’s family. One of the packs Clinton and Aubrey had visited. They’d sent flowers and lies instead of help.
That would be our next destination. If I had anything to say about it, it would be our last one, too.
“Xander…” Melony whispered, clutching at my shirt. “Will I ever see our boy again?”
I clenched my jaw, not sure whether a lie or the truth would hurt less at this point.
“Let’s just take this one step at a time,” I said, peeling her fingers away. “I’m gonna pop out into the hall for a second. Then I’m gonna come back and we’ll figure this out.”
